


Not The Devil You Know

by forgedinbowelsofhell



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post Season 4, This idea wouldn't leave me alone, Trixie loves Frozen, Wings, samael is lucifer but stronger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-06-29 04:11:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19822270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgedinbowelsofhell/pseuds/forgedinbowelsofhell
Summary: “My name is Samael,” he corrects the woman, “and I am afraid I don’t know who you are.”





	1. Chapter 1

**_Five months after Lucifer’s depature_ **

She wakes up to the noises from the kitchen, and realizes she has slept through the alarm again. Her little monkey, always so thoughtful, must’ve woken up and decided not to bother her for breakfast. Ashamed of herself, Chloe quickly makes her way down to the kitchen. “Morning, babe,” she says, kissing the top of the little girl’s head. “No more cereal, okay? We’re going to have a real breakfast.” Trixie’s nose scrunches up in fake distaste and Chloe chuckles before opening the fridge.

Not feeling that hungry, Chloe only accompanies Trixie with a cup of coffee and the girl keeps stealing worried glances. She isn’t sure how, but Trixie knows. After her mother stares down at her coffee for five minutes straight without a word, she decides it’s time to say something.

“Mommy.. is Lucifer coming back?”

_Maze told her, probably,_ her inner voice adds. The demon refused to move in with her after everything, but she couldn’t stay away from Trixie for too long. Whenever she got a break from helping Linda with Charlie, she’d _babysit_ her little human and kindly kick Chloe out of the house, telling her to _go get laid or something._ Still regretful of how she handled the situation at first, and knowing how much Trixie loves Maze, Chloe would leave and usually find herself in the penthouse. She was rubbing salt into an open wound, but she couldn’t let it go. She couldn’t let _him_ go.

“No. Yes. No.. I don’t know, monkey. He left because he had no other choice. I’m sure if he can, he will come back to us.” That’s what she wants to believe, at least. It can’t be final. There has to be a way. She just hopes Lucifer isn’t self-destructive enough to avoid finding it. 

“Can’t we go see him instead? I’ll give hime one of my knives. He probably needs it.”

Chloe forces a smile on her lips and shakes her head, making a mental note to check Trixie’s room to see the knives she’s talking about. “No, monkey, we can’t. What he’s doing is really important and we can’t distract him, okay?” The thought of Hell sends shivers down her spine. Not Trixie. _Never_ Trixie, even though she knows Lucifer wouldn’t let anyone touch either of them.

Trixie’s response is a protest of not finishing her breakfast and using every curse word she knows to express how dumb it is that Lucifer can’t come back, also she makes it very clear that she’s mad at him for making her mommy sad. Chloe decides she needs a better poker face, and owes her kid a few apologies as she watches her get into the bus.

When she picks up Trixie from school, she’s the first one to apologize. “I’m sorry, mommy,” she says, hereyes wide and lips quivering. Her heart aches. “I miss Lucifer and I don’t want you to be sad.”

“It’s alright, monkey,” she replies, giving her a small smile. “I miss him, too, and that’s why I get sad sometimes. But I promise I’m alright as long as I have you, okay?”

Trixie seems satisfied with the situation for now and nods a few times.

“But no chocolate cake for a month,” Chloe cuts her off before she can distract her with another topic, smirking a bit. “ _Where_ did you learn all those words?!”

The little girl’s protests are half-hearted as she starts planning new ways to get her father to deliver her chocolate cake.

****

Two days later, she drops Trixie at Dan’s and on her way home, decides to pay a visit to the beach. Their beach. The place where they shared their first kiss. Her fingers come up to touch her lips as she remembers how his lips felt against hers. If only she could get to kiss him every morning and every night. A trembling sigh leaves her as Chloe walks, her steps slow and hesitant until she spots a man in a white robe that looks _exactly_ like Lucifer from behind. Her heart starts beating faster and soon, he turns around and she’s _never_ felt this relieved in her life. It takes her a moment before she has the courage to call out his name and walk towards him.

He looks.. so different. So young. He can’t get _old_ , of course, but it is as if the weariness of everything he’s been through was lifted from his shoulders. Under any other circumstances, she would’ve made fun of his robe, but her mind is busy overworking itself.

She’s heard Maze and Lucifer mock Amenadiel’s robe before, and if that’s how they dress in _Heaven…_ Her eyes are already brimming with tears. It means he and his Father made up. It means he finally has his happy ending, and he can finally go home. Her heart bursts with joy at the implications of what else this might mean.

“You’re back,” she finally says and throws herself at him, arms tightening around the Devil.

****

**** **_Sometime before the fall_ **

“Gabby,” Samael sighs, willing a bench into existence and sitting down. “I want to talk to Dad. I’m not leaving here until you let me pass through.”

Gabriel’s expression remains impassive and he tilts his chin up, not giving Samael any response. Since _He_ has started tinkling with his new project called humanity, their Dad has been more absent than ever. Their Mum has been growing distant, and each time (every milennia or so) they see each other, only fights that quite literally shook Silver City from the ground occurred. Samael isn’t sure whether his siblings don’t notice, or don’t care, but _this_ isn’t how it is supposed to be. Their Dad isn’t supposed to command them through Gabriel, not seeing anyone else, and their Mum… he misses how lovely she used to be. He misses hanging out with his siblings, instead of being the outcast one now because he doesn’t like _this._ He doesn’t like being a pawn in his Father’s project. He doesn’t like getting _missions_ every decade or so to help life on Earth.

“I can wait here alllll eternity, Gabby,” Samael lays down on the bench, supporting his head with his arm as he looks up at his brother.

“That is not my name.” is all the answer he gets, and Gabriel continues to stand guard. The Lightbringer feigns a mocking, sad sigh and falls silent. He is as stubborn as they come, and he is determined to go up there and talk to his Father. If it were anything else, he simply would’ve _playfully_ kicked Gabriel’s arse and send him back to Michael crying, but Father has put him in charge. He’s the messanger and only through the archangel they can reach Him. Forcing his way inside and pissing Dad off way before he can say what he wants isn’t in his favor. Samael sighs one more time and glances at Gabriel, who refuses to acknowledge his presence. To pester him into stepping aside and to prove his insistence (along with his childishness), Samael starts humming a song, then sings it off-key.

Around his fortieth attempt to _convince_ Gabriel, (and he was getting there – why didn’t he think of sticky arrows to the wings five days ago?), Michael shows up. Samael groans as Gabriel rats him out and the _golden boy_ seems to believe it falls upon him to fix the situation. “Samael,” Michael says, his _‘I am disappointed in you’_ tone easily reminding him of their Dad. Except, he knows Michael is secretly delighted that he’s apparently made yet another mistake. According to him, anyway.

Samael lets go of the arrow he’s been holding aimed at them and a victorious ‘ha’ escapes him when it hits the intented target. Michael groans, trying to get the sticky matter away from his golden feathers but only making it worse in the process. Seeing Michael’s wings ruffle in annoyance as he gets ready to attack, Samael flaps his wings and the chase begins.

Trying to wait Gabriel out has been a torture for his wings. As they stretch in the air, he shoots up higher and higher, almost intoxicated by the feeling of freedom. An ungraceful yelp leaves his lips when he feels his right wing caught by a lasso and Michael drags him down. The pair falls down as they hassle and Samael manages to get a kick against the archangel’s chest. Before the blond can yank him down again, the Lightbringer slices the lasso into two with one movement of his free wing. He balances himself, but doesn’t attack.

“Father will see you when He _deems_ it necessary, Samael.” Younger as he might be, but Samael knows this isn’t the reason they’re fighting. They’re fighting because that’s what they do, because Michael isn’t the _Lightbringer._ He isn’t the favourite son. As if Samael cares. The supposed favoritism has gained him nothing other than contempt from his siblings. But he’s learned to play along to it. Michael is determined to belittle him any chance he gets and this is just another way of him saying, _Look, Dad, I’m better._ Samael, however, fights back because at some point, it’s become a fun routine. How else is he supposed to kill time?

“Well, I deem it incredibly necessary, brother,” he replies, head thrown to the side with the force of Michael’s blow. Samael wipes off the blood from his lips. “Come on, Michael. Don’t you miss how it used to be?” He sees the hesitation and agreement in Michael’s eyes flicker for a split second but the next punch he gets confirms what he’s always known: the prick is never going to stop being Daddy’s bitch. He doesn’t feel bad at all when he blows up a star on his head.

Whatever Michael’s response was, Samael passes out before he can see anything.

When he opens his eyes, he finds himself at a beach.

“That self-righteous feathered pr-” He trails off when he looks around and spots a few people staring at him weirdly. Samael brushes off his white robe and sends Michael a colorful prayer. There’s _sand_ in his wings and it is going to take years to get rid of because he can’t do it on his own and refuses to let anyone touch them. Irritated, he tries to shake it off to no avail. A child’s surprised squeak makes him startles him. The kid’s pointing directly at him, his mouth hanging open and eyes never leaving his wings. Realization dawns on him and with a small shrug of his shoulders, his wings are tucked away from the eyes of the mortals.

Another question is raised when he continues to glance around. Humans? He is _sure_ his Father hasn’t finished what he’s started yet, let alone allow them to procreate. Or.. or perhaps he has, and that’s why he won’t see his children anymore. Perhaps his new toys are much more interesting. The timeline doesn’t make sense, though. He tries to go over everything and remember the details of his latest task when he’s distracted by a female voice.

“Lucifer?” He turns to her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _Why the hell is she calling me that?_ It is his title, not his name. The desperation in her eyes brings him back to the moment but he doesn’t know what to say. Her blue eyes are wide and he feels _captured_ by their intensity. Whoever she is, she seems happy to see him, although he isn’t sure why there are tears involved. “You’re back,” she says and doesn’t hesitate to draw him in for a hug that would crush him if he were human. “You’re finally back.”

Unfamiliar with the gesture, he remains still, his hands at his side. She releases him with a bashful look on her face when she realizes he won’t return the hug. “Lucifer? Are you..”

“My name is Samael,” he finally corrects the woman, “and I am afraid I don’t know who you are.”


	2. Chapter 2

The grief on her face almost makes him regret uttering those words. The blonde’s mouth hangs open slightly but he notices she doesn’t know what to say. Samael sighs, gesturing around. “Frankly, I don’t know where I am, either. Last time I got a peek at Dad’s project, you lot weren’t much evolved.”

“So you’re not.. you’re not Lucifer?”

Ah. That title is important to her, it seems. “I _am_ the Lightbringer if that is what you mean. The Morningstar. Lucifer.” His shoulders roll into a shrug. “Those are titles. As I said, call me Samael. And you are..” He prompts, head tilted, raising an eyebrow.

“Chloe Decker,” she replies and Samael can practically _hear_ her brain working.

“Chloe,” he tests the word, and the woman’s eyes well up. _What have I done this time?_ For whatever reason, hearing her _own_ name stings..? Before he can comment on it, her features harden and she looks up at him. He makes a mental note to call her Ms. Decker from then on.

"What is the last thing you remember?” The images of his fight with Michael comes to his mind but he is reluctant to share them with a mortal. Even though the said mortal clearly knows him, or at least, something about him.

“I am afraid I should be the one asking the questions,” he says as _Chloe_ watches him with her wide eyes, hoping for.. something. “How do you know me?”

Her response is a shake of her head and Samael is ready to step in and use his abilities to get an answer. Her next words puzzle him even more, and he lets drag him to her… _what is that?_

“We’re going to talk to Amenadiel. Get in the car.” Oh. _Car?_ His eyebrows are knitted together and his lips part as if he wants to object, but he finds that he can’t. Whoever this woman is, the mystery is… tempting. She pushes him into the car and gets in. He flinches in worry when the car begins moving, then lets out an impressed ‘ah’. Humans. Because they don’t have wings. That’s clever. Silence takes over and he watches as Chloe grips the wheel a bit too tightly that her knuckles get white.

“What is Amenadiel doing here? Did he send you?” He asks, narrowing his eyes. Chloe inhales sharply, not looking at him as she answers.

"Whatever… _happened_ to you down there, it is obviously not my expertise. I don’t want to make anything worse, so save the questions until we meet your brother? Please?”

He can’t do anything other than nod because she sounds so.. exhausted. Samael falls silent and leans his head against the window, watching the buildings they pass by. Some things remind him of the Silver City but nothing is as _bright._ The buildings are dark and old, people are unhappy. Samael frowns, observing.

The car stops and he is grateful for the _silence._ That thing makes too much noise for his taste. He’d much prefer flying. The blonde leads him to a metal _box._ Wary of it at first, he stands outside and gives in when Chloe stares at him with impatient eyes. The ride is short and the doors open to reveal a well-designed penthouse. “Oh,” he says. “This is nice. You live here?”

“Nope. You do.” His face wrinkles in confusion for a moment, but he only hums, approving of.. his own choices.

The elevator dings to let them know they have company and he frowns when he sees Amenadiel stepping out. He can’t even ask why his big brother wouldn’t directly fly in because Amenadiel’s reaction is so sudden and much worse than he’s expected. “ _Luci!”_ He says, and pulls him into a.. hug? Samael freezes on the spot, more alerted than _surprised_ because his brother wouldn’t hug him. Sensing his distress, Amenadiel releases him and exchanges a look of worry with Chloe before he steps aside.

An exasperated sigh leaves him. “All right. _That_ is not my name. I figured a human,” he glances at Chloe and her expression shifts to affronted at his belittling tone, “wouldn’t know better, but why in Dad’s name do you call me that?”

“I think his memories were erased,” Chloe interrupts abruptly and Samael barks out a laugh, lifting his finger.

“I am sorry, what?” He looks at Amenadiel for support but his expression is so serious that Samael entertains the idea for a second. “No. No, no. My memories were not erased. I was in the Silver City and Gabby wouldn’t let me see Father. Then, of course, _Michael_ appeared. I blew up a star on his head and..” He trails off, frowning. “I woke up here. Oh, I am going to feed him to unicorns. That prick. Is this an elaborate joke?” They’re playing mind-tricks now? He’ll show Michael. Samael closes his eyes and focuses on the _will_ inside him, pushing at the walls this _simulation_ should normally have.

The ground shakes and Chloe’s frightened yelp brings him back to the present. This _is_ Earth. Panic swells in him as Amenadiel watches him warily. “Brother,” Samael says, his voice hoarse.

“I think I know what is going on,” Amenadiel replies, glancing at Chloe. How inclined Amendiel is to listening and answering to the blonde begins to get on his nerves. He clears his throat and the three move to the couch. He takes the single chair on purpose, facing his older brother and the woman.

“I.. remember that fight,” he says at last. “And I remember what happened afterward.”

Samael barely holds off the words to tell him to hurry the hell up. Chloe fidgets with her hands, causing him to get even more worried. “You were gone for a long time, Lu- Samael. Michael _freaked out._ He wouldn’t tell any of us anything, but he’d disappear for months, telling us he had to find you. One day… you came back. You wouldn’t tell us anything about what happened but you were… different.”

“The conclusion is..” Samael prompts, hoping his brother has something _better_ than what he thinks he’s implying at.

“I think Michael accidentally sent you into the future. You know Father’s one of the definitive rules about time. We are _not allowed_ to mess with its linearity. He probably got worried Father might punish him and started looking for you. We both know he couldn’t care less otherwise.”

The reminder of his twin’s disdain towards him stings. He _knows_ , but he tends to call it a brotherly quarrel than anything else. Samael regards Chloe’s baffled expression for a moment. Time-travel isn’t the most peculiar thing to happen to him. His Father is _God,_ after all, but he understands why it might fry a human’s brain. Frankly, he isn’t sure why she’s even there, and considering she doesn’t seem to think they are crazy, _she_ must be the crazy one.

“So we _wait_ until Michael arrives? That is the plan?”

Amenadiel shrugs. “It is not the plan. It is _what happened._ Whether you try to find your way back or not here, apparently it will be fruitless.”

Samael considers his options, as if there is many. Time-travel isn’t on the extensive list of abilities he has. Sighing, he decides Amenadiel’s logic is on point and changes the subject.

“Right. You know what doesn’t make much sense, brother? _You._ On Earth. You despise humans. What’s gotten into you?”

“Things change, Lucifer.” _Samael_ can’t help the snort escaping him at the cliché response. Only grief flashes across Amenadiel’s face. “You have, too.”

“What does that mean?”

The archangel’s response dies in his throat when Chloe gently places her hand on his knee, and Amenadiel notices she’s right about… something. Feeling in the dark, he gets up and points a finger at the woman. “And who is she supposed to be? Why is a human interfering with celestial matters, brother, hm? Taken a liking to this one?”

He watches as Chloe struggles to find the right words. Her hands tremble and tears well up in her eyes. Samael’s heart sinks but before he can apologize, Chloe vanishes into a corridor. He flinches involuntarily, regretting his words. “Right..” He faces Amenadiel. “Have I..?” _Taken a liking to this one,_ goes unsaid.

The affirmation he gets _terrifies_ him. “ _How?”_

“I have no idea, Sammy,” he replies, amused. _At least he used the correct name,_ Samael thinks bitterly, trying to wrap his mind around all this. “You.. met her during one of your visits to Earth. I believe it is best if she is the one who tells you the story. Although, there are parts you _should not_ be told about, as it might create problems. We need to tread carefully, brother. Time is delicate.”

“A lecture already? So you haven’t changed _that_ much.” At Amenadiel’s solemn expression, he deflates with a sigh. “All right, all right. I will be careful.”

He notices Chloe standing at the corner of the room, holding a glass of water as she listens. Samael’s expression softens for a moment, grateful that she hasn’t left. He mentally gives himself a slap. _Why is he suddenly interested in a human?_

“Chloe? You know what I am talking about, right?” Amenadiel’s voice breaks him out of his trance. Samael frowns, unsettled by this _secret_ they seem to share. Chloe nods and tries to give him a reassuring smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“I should let you two talk. I need to get back. I don’t want to worry Linda.”

“Tell her I say hi,” Chloe adds absentmindedly.

Amenadiel walks towards him again, this time patting his shoulder. “It is.. it is good to see you, brother,” he says and Samael sees guilt in his expression again. He feels _alerted._ His brother knows something, must have _done_ something. Samael forces himself to smile a tight smile. “I will come back as soon as you can, Sammy.”

He watches him leave until the elevator doors close and he has no proper excuse to avoid looking at the blonde. The silence hangs heavy in the air. Both of them standing still and staring at the other. Finally, Chloe gestures towards the bar.

“Do you.. do you want a drink?”

He knits his eyebrows together as his eyes land on the shelf. _Alcohol._ At _his_ place?

“I.. I don’t drink,” he says, feeling at a lost for words.

“Oh.” He notes the shock in her tone. The uncomfortable silence continues to strech. Samael takes a deep breath. As he takes a few steps back and sits down, he invites Chloe to do the same with a small hand gesture. The blonde moves slowly and settles across him, giving him enough time to rethink his question.

“Why.. is it good to see me? Amenadiel.. he acted as if he hadn’t seen me in a while. And you.. you asked me if I was back. Where did I go?”

“Somewhere we can’t follow,” Chloe replies, placing the glass on the table in front of her. He respects the answer, figuring it must be something she cannot _spoil_ for him. She seems smarter than his brother, at least, so he doesn’t insist on details.

“Did Father send me?”

“No.”

“Then why did I leave?”

“You.. you did it to protect us.”

“From what?”

“Evil.” Her vague answers only frustrate him further but she’s a quick-thinker, he will give her that. Samael leans back, eyeing the woman. Protecting humanity from evil? _What evil?_ is the next question that comes to his mind, but he knows he won’t get any answers.

“How did we meet?”

It is an easy question. Her tense shoulders relax as she smiles to herself. In a brief moment, her expression turns neutral and he can see she’s struggling to deal with her emotions. “You.. well, someone you knew was murdered. Um. One of your friends here. I.. I am a detective,” she says, giving a small shrug. “I was the one working on the case. You insisted on punishing the murderer and personally went after him. We both found the same lead and well, we started working together.”

“And, pray tell, why did I care? They are going to get what they deserve after death.”

“I don’t know,” she says, and he finds himself more and more interested in this.. story. He _punishes._ He punishes, but his Father is always the _Judge._ He can’t think of a single reason Father would be interested in a silly human soul and the rest of the possibilities are mortifying. Before he can go down _that_ rabbit hole, Chloe’s stomach rumbles and he lets out a chuckle at how embarrassed she seems. Pink colors her cheeks but she joins him, chuckling as well.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” she says, shaking her head to herself.

“Let’s fix that first, shall we?” Samael replies, his grin softening into a smile.

From what Amenadiel’s told, it seems he has enough time to get to the bottom of the story, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit slow, and I know it's short - but on the bright side, shorter chapters mean quicker updates. Or would you prefer longer chapters, but possibly slower updates? 
> 
> Tell me what you think? :)


	3. Chapter 3

“What is pizza?” 

“..you have never had pizza?”

“No.” 

Chloe squints at him funnily for a while. 

“We don’t have that little box, either,” he points at the device she’s holding and tapping occasionally. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion further. 

“You don’t have phones in Heaven?”

“Phones,” he repeats, clicking his tongue. “No. We don’t. What are those for?” 

“Um,” she shakes her head, as if to gather her thoughts, “For communication.” It is as simple as she can put it. 

“Ah.”

“How did you know what alcohol was, then? I don’t think you have alcohol in Heaven.”

“Instinct,” he replies, shrugging. “I wouldn’t know right away – but when you asked, I just  _ knew _ . It feels like a distant memory – tugging at the back of my mind and telling me not to do it.”

She nods. She doesn’t fully understand, but she supposes angelic instincts  _ are  _ more complicated. “What about the rest?”

“We don’t have high buildings, not practical for flying, but the rest is similar. All of it is much better than you can imagine in the Silver City. Everything is.. brighter.” He has been away from his home for only a few hours and he misses it. Lucifer… it has been eons for Lucifer. She fights back the emotions boiling.

“But no phones,” she asks again, tilting her head.

“No, but it does look interesting. Perhaps you could teach me how to use one. Since it is how you.. communicate?”

He doesn’t seem puzzled by it, but from his expression, she can tell it is because he  _ knows  _ they are inferior and need  _ such  _ things. There’s a bit of astonishment mixed with it that briefly reminds her of  _ her  _ Lucifer, but this is the archangel her Lucifer claims he no longer is. 

This one.. this one is a soldier, she realises when she glances at him. Not a king. Despite his annoying little brother act, he’s listened to Amenadiel’s advice without question. Her answers have been frustratingly vague and Samael hasn’t persisted one bit.  _ Lucifer  _ would have. But there’s glimpses of her devil that makes her heart clench in yearning.

_ I wish you were here. _

“Ms. Decker?” says Samael, bringing her back to the present. He  _ is  _ there, she tells herself. Perhaps not the version she knows, but he’s there and she has no intentions of leaving his side until his brother shows up to take him back. 

“It’s Chloe,” she corrects him, “You don’t – didn’t use my name much, though. Usually called me Detective,” she says, mirroring his accent on the last word and failing miserably. 

His lips curl upwards into a ghost of a smile and she mentally congratulates herself for it. He has a nice smile. “Detective.” He repeats, giving a mindful nod. The word twits like a knife in her chest but she manages to give a smile of her own. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Her reply is too fast to be convincing but Samael doesn’t call her out on it. “Yes, I am all right. I should order the pizza.”

His reaction to pizza is  _ delightful.  _ His excitement is endearing and he doesn’t even stop to breathe.  _ He probably doesn’t need to, _ Chloe reminds herself, still on her first slice while Samael is almost done with his share. She hides a snigger behind her palm, amused. 

But the affronted noise he makes when the slice falls from his hands and ruins his robe is the last straw for her. She breaks into a laughter, causing him to pout even harder. In an ideal world, after everything they’ve been through, with Lucifer, she would’ve leaned in and kissed his pout away. He would melt under her touch like he always does. Perhaps it would turn into a tickle fight that would end in a make-out session... But this isn’t the ideal world. Her Lucifer is stuck down in Hell and the person sitting across her doesn’t know her. 

“I can’t say I will miss the robe,” she says playfully after her laughter has died. “Not very… fashionable.”

“And what is fashionable?” He asks, sounding offended in a childish way. “That?” 

He points at her attire and she has to look down to make sure there is nothing inappropiate going on down there. When she checks, a nod accompanies her response, confused. “..yes.”

“It looks uncomfortable,” he shots back and she can’t hide her grin. 

“Tough luck. Come on. Up.” He stuffs the last bites of his slice into his mouth and follows her to the closet room with a quiet huff. 

“Here,” she says, purposefully navigating him towards the grey suits she likes so much. He seems wary of her – or his future self’s – choices, staying still, so Chloe decides to pick out the clothes. She pushes the suit with a white shirt against his chest until he gets the message and takes them, staring down at her. 

“You’ve spent a lot of time here, haven’t you?”

The question catches her off-guard. She  _ has.  _ Her only regret is that she’s only started spending time here after he left. Chloe avoids his gaze, already stepping towards the door to give him privacy. “Just get changed,” she mumbles as a reply. 

Setting apart her half-eaten slice, she closes the pizza box carefully and takes it to the kitchen. The fridge is empty and she makes a mental note to go grocery shopping for him. She pours herself a glass of wine – and downs most of it in one sip. There’s an archangel that might thoroughly disapprove but she  _ needs  _ it. She need something to ease her nerves – something to help her stop overthinking. It takes her a while to finish the rest of the glass. When she returns, Lu-  _ Samael  _ isn’t there. Chloe peeks through the doorway to his room. 

“Samael?” She tries, and the word feels just wrong. It earns her a response, so she focuses on that instead.

“You can come in, Detective.”

A step into his bedroom, thanks to the lack of doors in his penthouse, she can see him. He put on his pants, but he is still shirtless and his wings are out in all their glory. Except.. they look like they were ruffled by the wind and there’s sand everywhere. She looks at the floor, and up at him, and her answer doesn’t need to be voiced.

“Landed on a beach, remember?” He says sheepishly, his wings shaking behind him once. “Sand got stuck  _ everywhere _ and it is quite irritating.”

“Oh,” she says, trying to pry her gaze off his wings. “I.. anything I can help with?”

What surprises her is that he seems to consider it. She would  _ love  _ to dive her fingers into his wings and..

“Did you? Before, I mean. Have you ever done this?” 

Stunned, she shakes her head no.

“But you’ve seen them before.”

“Yes.”

“Would.. would I – he let you, if you asked him?”

“I don’t know,” she says. She doesn’t. She knows Lucifer trusts her – but she can never be sure to what extend. Her heart tells her his response would be yes, and she hopes she's right.

Silence follows. He lets out a sigh and nods towards his wings. “I.. can’t reach my back,” he says. 

She swallows the lump in her throat. Her eyes are wide as she waits for another confirmation, but it doesn’t come. They’ve spent a few hours together and he’s willing to let her touch his wings. Her heart beats a little faster. “Okay,” she replies at last, “What.. what do I do?”

He guides her through it. Samael sits on the edge of the bed, his back facing her, and she settles behind him. He tells her what to be mindful of, and she does exactly what she’s told. Nothing more, nothing less. She asks to frequently how she’s doing that he has to assure her she can’t hurt him unless she tries to pluck one out with all her strength. Finally convinced, she falls quiet. His feathers feel.. smooth and tingly at the same time. They are luminous and it is breathtaking.  _ He  _ is breathtaking.  _ Why couldn’t we have more time?  _

It feels.. intimate. She gently shakes off the sand stuck between his feathers, gently moving a few and sinking her fingers in gently. He is still tense, and so is she. She doesn’t want to do anything that might disturb him. A relaxed sigh escapes him as her fingers touch the skin underneath and Chloe feels bold enough to let her hands explore a bit. His head hangs low and his shoulders lose the tension slowly. 

Chloe continues her mission, smoothing the feathers carefully. No matter how leisurely she does her job, she’s done sooner than she’d like. Her fingertips touch the point his wings attach to his back and she runs a single finger down the line and it stays there. He doesn’t move. For a moment, she wants to press her lips against the skin between his wings. The spell breaks when she hears his sharp inhale.  _ It’s not him,  _ she reprimands herself. It is so easy to forget when he’s standing right there. There are things that prove over and over again he’s not the Lucifer she knows, but her mind likes to play tricks.

She wipes away her tears before they can fall and sniffles as quietly as possible. “It looks good,” she finally says, dusting off the sand on her clothes. He gets up, turning around. His left wing brushes past her. She isn’t sure whether it is just reflex or they have a mind of their own, but he is completely in control. The bedroom is relatively small for his wings, but he freely moves, careful not to break anything.

His sadness is masked with a careful smile as he stretches his wings before tucking them in. She finds that she likes them out where she can see them. “Thank you,” Samael replies, nodding to show his satisfaction.

“You’re welcome.” 

There’s an awkward silence that reminds her the morning of a  _ forbidden  _ one-night. He wins the stare contest as she gets off the bed and shimmies towards the doorway. 

“I should..” She starts, hoping she will manage to improvise an excuse but nothing comes to her traitorous mind. 

“You don’t need to,” he says, putting on his shirt. She knows he’s looking for a distraction, too, and the buttons seem to be helping. 

“I don’t want to,” she admits. Selfish as it may be, she doesn’t want to let him out of her sight when she knows their time is limited. She’ll take whatever she can get. “But I don’t.. I don’t know what to do. I can’t tell you anything. I can’t take you anywhere. I can’t.. I..”

“Don’t do anything,” he suggests. He is much more control in situations like this than her Lucifer, she notices. Back when everything was so much simpler for him, and he doesn’t think he’s responsible for every bad thing that’s happened to his loved ones… he seems calm. “Just keep me company. I’d like that.”

He nods encouragingly, with a real smile on his lips this time. Chloe finds her way back to the couch, crossing her legs under herself. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore. She sinks deeped into the couch, exhaling. She is tired. His gaze lingers on her for a while, and her heart skips a beat when he sits in front of the piano. 

She doesn’t recognize the melody but all she knows is it is Heavenly. She feels overwhelmed and peaceful at the same time. He begins humming along to it, and it increases as his eyes close and he lets himself be _guided_ by the music instead. She doesn’t understand the words but she can feel them _touching_ the very essence of her soul. _I love you,_ she prays, and hopes that Lucifer can hear her.

Chloe watches, watches and watches until she falls asleep, a smile on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be angst... very soon. Get ready.


	4. Chapter 4

“You know,” he says, letting a wide smile form on his lips. “In the Silver City, I always –” His anectode is cut short when he spots her curled up into herself, snoring quietly. He snorts, carefully pushing the bench as he gets up. She is smiling in her sleep and he feels _proud_ about it. Disturbing her sleep is the last thing he wants, so instead of risking it by trying to carry her to the bed, he goes on a small exploration to find something to cover her up with. Humans _are_ fragile. He knows that much.

When he returns, her smiles is replaced by a frown. She whimpers, and Samael finds that he doesn’t like seeing her in distress. Before he knows it, he is gently sliding his thumb on the curve of her nose, between her eyebrows and her forehead. “Be at peace,” he murmurs, chasing away any nightmares she is having. Nightmares that he is beginning to think his future self is responsible for.

He watches as her shoulders relax and her frown lines disappear. He glances at the piano with a sigh and decides it is best not to wake her up. Samael retreats to _the_ -not his- bedroom. Black curtains, a black leather single sofa across the _black_ covers and red silk sheets. The room is tastefully designed but black isn’t his color. He prefers everything in white.

The bed dips and shapes easily with his weight and it comfortable enough. He slides his hand between the sheet and the pillow to bring it closer to him and his eyebrows raise when he touches another material. Samael props himself on one elbow and on a coated piece of paper. Synchronized with his keen hum, the lampshade sitting on the nightstand lights up the room.

A photo of the blonde who is currently snoring in the living room. Her hair is pulled up in a tight ponytail and she is focused on the screen in front of her. Files are scattered on the desk and she holds a pen. “Detective,” he says to himself, nodding. There is nothing special about the photo – which speaks volumes on her importance in his life if his future held onto it like this.

He places it on the nightstand and as he sinks into the bed, the lights dim until it is fully dark. Sleep finds him fast.

He wakes to an annoying sound. Samael blinks sluggishly, catching glimpses of Chloe running around the living room with quiet curse words on falling from her lips. _Why_ does he not have doors?

“What is that?” His voice sounds grumpy even to his ears. An unexpected travel through time and between different planes of existence apparently has been exhausting. His muscles ache and he refuses to move.

“That’s my phone, sorry!”

The noise stops and he groans quietly into his pillow. She is.. talking to someone. The voices are distant and he doesn’t pay much attention to her until he hears the words, ‘I’ll be there in an hour.’

His brain jumpstarts and he pushes himself up. Samael grabs the red silk robe resting on the leather couch. “You are leaving?”

It is _not_ that he cannot take care of himself. He is one of the most powerful beings in existence, only second to his Father. For some unfathomable reason, though, he wants her around.

“Yes,” she nods, combing her hand through her hair to look somewhat presentable. “I have to go pick up my kid. Her fa-”

“You have a child?”

“Yes.” She nods, patient. “And I need to go pick her up because her father is having a family emergency. Amenadiel said he’d stop by. Don’t.. go anywhere, okay?”

Her mom-voice makes his heart ache with the memories of his once-happy family. Samael can only nod as she hurries towards the metal box. ..He should ask Amenadiel what that is.

“Brother!” Amenadiel exclaims and Samael turns around, startled. He has been standing outside the balcony and replaying the events of the last day in his mind over and over again.

One question, though, protrudes. “Is she married?”

Amenadiel raises an eyebrow but it dawns on him quick. His lips curve into an amused smile.

“She’s divorced.”

He hums noncommittally, but the answer gives him comfort for some reason. He ignores the look on his older brother’s face. “Where have you been?”

“Doing research.” The answer is practiced and he is a terrible liar. Samael raises an eyebrow. There is more to it than that, but Amenadiel is the First Born. No one questions their big brother.

Samael does, but only in the safety of his mind. For now.

“Apparently,” Amenadiel begins, eager to carry on and he notices, surprised about the lack of insistence on Samael’s part. “Time-travel remains as one of the mysteries humanity is yet to solve.”

“You expected humans would have a solution?” He emphasizes on the word _humans._

“Yes, brother.” For a split second, Amenadiel lets out a sigh in defeat and just when Samael’s convinced, _finally_ , for the first time in his existence that he’s getting an explanation, Amenadiel’s whole demeanor changes. He gives Samael _look #2._ The _there’s a reason you are all requested to follow me_ look.

The look #1 is _why are you like this?_. He gets it from everyone in the family.

Samael looks up at him, choosing to remain quiet and bottling his questions away for later. For Chloe, perhaps. She can help. A private smile forms on his lips momentarily.

“There are different theories – all of which have consequences that are beyond our powers. The decisions you make based on what you learn about your future can be catastrophic, brother. I am beginning to believe this might be one of Father’s tests. The reason He hasn’t intervened the moment it happened tells me there are things he wants you to realize – understand humanity, perhaps.”

 _Why?_ His inner voice demands. _What are you not telling me?_ Samael’s lips remain unmoving.

“But we need to be careful. Now, I do not know how long it will take Michael to find you, but you can’t-”

“I do not want to be caged in _this_ place with you babysitting me.” He butts in. Amenadiel hasn’t said anything yet, _technically,_ Samael isn’t going against any orders by expressing his desires. Yet. “And I’d like to keep talking to the detective.”

The disapproval he waits for never comes. “You can. Chloe’s smart. And she’s good at dealing with you.”

The joke falls flat because he isn’t sure what to think of the blonde yet. Amenadiel sobers up. “Right,” Samael replies.

He is more prepared this time – when Amenadiel’s phone rings. His brother’s stoic one-word replies frustrate him. Chloe’s tone of voice is clear but he can’t make out her words. When the call ends, he perks up with interest.

“She’s asking us to come over for dinner,” Amenadiel replies. Samael narrows his eyes at the soft expression on his face. Clearing his throat, the younger angel feigns at disinterest (not very) successfully. “I need a shower.” Is all he says before swiftly climbing the stairs to the bedroom.

When they arrive, the last thing he expects is a wide-eyed small human observing him. Her stare is so distracting that he cannot focus on the detective’s voice. “I’m sorry,” he interrupts, pointing a finger at the child, “Has she never seen another person in her life before?”

Trixie gasps and Samael flinches at her tone when she speaks. “You really don’t remember! Mommy said you were in an accident and now don’t know us! Just like in the movies! I’m so glad you’re okay, Lucifer!”

His lips form an ‘o’ and his eyebrows are knitted closer but no words leave his mouth. His gaze falls on Chloe who discreetly tries to encourage him to play along.

“Yes,” Amenadiel thankfully interrupts, “Yes, Trixie. He doesn’t remember us so guess what that means? He hasn’t seen Frozen yet.”

Trixie’s squeak and Amenadiel’s expression tell him he will not be entertained.

He watches with the corner of his eye as his brother and Chloe move to the kitchen. Surprisingly, he finds the movie interesting and stays on it enough to understand what is going on. Every now and then, he glances at the pair in the kitchen. Chloe’s arms are crossed against her chest. She nibbles on her bottom lip as he listens to Amenadiel and frequently nods.

Every now and then, Trixie nudges him to get his attention.

They’re almost one hour into the movie when Amenadiel makes an excuse to leave. Samael can’t even remember what it is – as he is _relieved_ that his older brother is gone. Just yesterday, Amenadiel’s presence has brought him comfort. Now, he finds it suffocating. No angels – no big brothers means freedom. He’s realized it a bit late but spending time with Chloe is what he wants. Not only because she’s human, but also the proofs of their connection keep piling up and he wants to explore it more.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” she announces from the kitchen and he looks over his shoulder to smile at her. Trixie’s eyes never leave the screen and he is certain she hasn’t heard her mum. He relaxes further into the couch.

He sniffs the air. Something reeks of brimstone and mold. Samael raises an eyebrow, studying the small place to find the source of the smell. “What’s that smell?” He frowns, peeling off a drowsy Trixie (how long has she been clinging to his side like a koala?) of him and getting up.

“Chicken,” Chloe replies absentmindedly.

“No. Not chicken.” It is… alarming. The smell gets stronger with each passing second. Samael stands in the middle of the room. His eyes are wide and searching. His posture is defensive.

“What is wrong?” Chloe’s voice helps. He is desperately trying to identify the smell – why it feels so wrong.

“You needn’t worry.” He replies, glancing at Trixie. They _do not_ need to worry. That much is true. He cannot – or refuses to – understand why he cares, but he will not let anyone touch her. _Them._ The child is… innocent. He ignores the rest of the adjectives coming to his mind.

“I _am_ worried,” Chloe replies, placing the plates on the table. “What is it?”

When he hears the knock on the doors, Samael gestures for her to stay put. He opens the door and the moment the smell hits him with all its strength, he notices.

_Hell._

A demon stands in front of him. A hell-forged blade is in her fist.

“You son of a bit-” She shouts and before she can touch him, Samael strikes.

His kick sends her flying down and he closes the door behind him to ensure the detective’s and the child’s safety.

He is certain his Father does _not_ allow demons up there and it is his duty to make sure this one returns where she belongs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright - I am done with summer school and there's nothing else stopping me from writing! More frequent updates, yay.
> 
> My aim was to post something longer, but I realized it's been a while so I decided to update. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> (By the way, yes - this is unbeta-ed and English is not my first language. Apologies for any mistakes.)


	5. Chapter 5

The shutting of the door startles Trixie awake. She peers up from the couch with a frown, watching her mother.

“It’s nothing, monkey,” Chloe replies, “Just stay inside, okay?”

The last thing she needs is her kid accidentally getting stuck in the middle of a fight between a demon and an archangel. Trixie nods once with her eyes wide in worry. She wishes she can reassure the little kid but Maze’s battle cry reminds her she doesn’t have the time.

Chloe rushes outside. If she didn’t know any better and ignored the blood all over their faces, she’d think they were dancing. She’s seen Maze fight many times, but she had no idea Lucifer – _Samael_ is able to hold his own. The only way to describe them is elegant and.. deadly. She has no idea how they’ve managed to damage each other this much under a minute.

“Stop!” She screams, running towards the two. Lucifer’s fist meets Maze’s cheek and the demon struggles backward.

“You left me!” Maze’s voice trembles. Chloe isn’t sure if it is the rush of adrenaline and rage, or simply the demon being overwhelmed by her emotions. “You said you _never_ would!”

Chloe freezes. Maze doesn’t know and any Hell related comments might quite literally turn their lives upside down. Samael narrows his eyes. His fists unclench and he stills. Unmoving, like a statue. Calculating, perhaps.

“Maze,” Chloe says softly, taking advantage of the situation. There’s no way she would risk getting between the two yet and she wants the fight over before it can start again.

“You should’ve told me,” Maze accuses, pointing at her with the knife she’s holding in her fist. When the demon steps towards her, Samael shifts to her side. His wings appear and the next thing Chloe sees is Maze is holding her hands in defeat, Samael’s wing angled right under Maze’s chin. Despite how high she holds her head, the tiniest touch of the sharp tips of his wings is enough to draw blood.

Chloe makes a mental note to be more careful next time she gets to groom his wings.

_Next time?!_

“I am not going to hurt her, Lucifer,” Maze snarls, glaring at Chloe. The small shift of her head and from the way her eyebrows are raised, Chloe can tell the demon is as confused as the clueless angel currently hovering above her.

“Drop the blade, demon,” Samael replies.

“She’s a friend,” Chloe blurts out the moment she has the chance. By now, Maze must’ve figured out something is wrong with Lucifer – who isn’t even Lucifer, really, and Samael hasn’t killed her yet. That is a good sign.

Their staring contest ends when Chloe touches his arm and after a moment of consideration, he lowers his wing. He adjusts his cufflinks, _just like my Lucifer would do,_ she thinks to herself. Maze is careful, as if any sudden movement might get her killed and Chloe can’t guarantee that it won’t. It feels like a lifetime by the time she puts her arms down.

“A friend?” He questions. His eyes won’t leave the demon in front of him, so when Maze raises an eyebrow – a silent “what the hell is going on?”, she quickly mouths “don’t talk”.

“Yes. You can stop staring at her like that now.” Chloe forcefully pushes herself between the angel and the demon. Her lip is busted and the force of Samael’s punch has already left a bruise on the side of Maze’s face. She winces Chloe touches it. Samael defensively stirs behind her for a split second.

“You can’t trust a demon, detective.” She doesn’t need to turn around to know his gaze is still on Maze.

Trixie’s cry interrupts them. “Maze!” Chloe sighs. She must’ve been watching despite Chloe’s words.

“Stay inside, babe, we’re j-” Before she can finish her sentence, Trixie begins running towards the demon. She _knows_ neither would intentionally hurt her little monkey, but with the power they possess, anything unintentional might be disastrous. The tension can be cut with a knife and she doesn’t want Trixie anywhere near it.

“No, child,” Samael scolds, the worry in his voice is sincere. He picks Trixie up into his arms before she can run past him and right into Maze’s arms. He’s.. protecting her from Maze.

_I’d do anything to protect that little urchin._

Her heart constricts.

Trixie gasps when he sees the blood on Lucifer’s face. She turns to Maze, frowning at the pair. “Did you two fight?!” A pause. “I’m sorry, mommy. I told Maze Lucifer was back. I didn’t think they’d fight!” Her lower lip trembles as she looks at Maze. From Pierce, to their trip to Rome, to Lucifer’s departure, Trixie’s been through a lot. Her heart breaks for her little girl.

“I’m okay, small human,” the demon replies, winking.

Trixie turns to Samael and the panicked expression his face is all too familiar. He glances at Chloe, silently begging for her to tell him how to calm down her kid. She crosses her arms against her chest instead, her expression is neutral.

“I.. am all right,” Samael replies tentatively, stealing a glance her way, to see if he is doing something wrong.

A distressed sob leaves Trixie. She wraps both of her arms around Samael’s neck and he responds by awkwardly patting her back.

“Look at what you’ve done!” Maze hisses and Chloe, for precaution, steps further between them. Samael is unpredictable and Chloe _hopes_ her presence will be enough to keep Samael away from Maze. She softly places a hand on his arm that is supporting Trixie.

“Hey, why don’t you take Trix inside? I need to talk to Maze.”

He considers it. Samael stares at the demon before focusing on her again. The way he shakes his head is almost imperceptible, like he’s pleading her to not send him away, like he has to listen if she does. “I’d rather not leave you alone with a demon,” he adds.

“I’ll be fine.” She nods towards Trixie, who is holding onto the angel as tight as she can, with her head buried into his shoulder. “Please.”

He lets out a defeated sigh. “Very well,” he mumbles, turning around.

Chloe watches them until they step inside the house and close the door. Maze not-so-gently nudges her arm with a frown.

“What the hell is wrong with him? When the little human said he couldn’t remember, I thought he couldn’t remember the last few centuries or so. How can he not remember _me_? I’ve known him for eons.”

Chloe pinches the bridge of her nose. She and Trixie will need to have a conversation about this whole.. situation. She can’t have Maze and Trixie updating each other every five seconds about e _verything._

“It’s not him, Maze.” She shakes her head to herself. “He’s.. it’s not him. He didn’t forget anything. He just.. hasn’t _lived_ those parts yet.”

The only response she gets is a tilt of head and a raised eyebrow.

“Apparently, he accidentally time-traveled. That’s what Amenadiel thinks, at least. He’s.. Lucifer from before, well, everything. Samael.”

There’s a long pause. “Explains why that idiot was eager to dissever my head from my body.” Maze wipes away the blood on her face, smudging it even worse in the process. “In that case, good luck, Decker. I’m out.”

She frowns, grabbing the demon’s wrist to stop her from hopping onto her bike. “What do you mean you’re out, Maze? He’s-”

“Nothing. He isn’t my anything. After his last stunt, I was going to kick his ass for leaving me behind and ignore his existence from then on, but yeah. It’s not him, and while it _would_ be fun taking it out on the angel in advance, I have no intentions of letting him get all Lightbringer on me. Don’t wanna get smitten.”

Her mouth falls open. Maze breaks free of her loose grip and she hooks over one leg over her bike. “I’ll see what Amenadiel has and you know, track down an ancient book or something to see if there’s anything that can help. No way in Hell I am getting this close to him again, though.”

Before she can form a reply, Maze speeds up, leaving a confused and slightly mad Chloe behind.

Samael’s grunt is the first thing she hears when she enters the house. Trixie sits facing him on the couch, a cloth in her hand, cleaning the blood from his face. She’s clumsy and even from where she’s standing, Chloe can tell she’s applying too much pressure. Samael sits tight, grimacing and making disapproving noises every now and then.

“Hey, monkey,” she says, her voice soft. There’s no evidence that she’s been crying. Playing doctor is a good distraction, it seems. “Why don’t you give me and Lucifer a moment? We can watch another movie after that. Okay?”

Her lips purse and Trixie tries her best puppy dog eyes to change her mom’s mind but Chloe doesn’t budge. As the little girl walks back to her room, Chloe replaces her on the couch. She picks up the cloth, slowly bringing it to his face. She gives him enough time to move away, but he remains still.

“There’s no need for that,” he says, “I only let the child because it seemed to bring her comfort, sort of. Frankly, I have no idea why it hasn’t healed already.”

 _I do have an idea,_ she thinks to herself, pressing the cloth against the wound right under his eyebrow. He winces.

“Sorry,” she rushes to say, moving her hand away. Confusion reflects on his face once more, and she knows he’s trying to figure out why it hurts. Chloe avoids his gaze.

“It’s alright,” he says, giving a small smile. “You can go on.” _If it brings comfort to you, as well,_ he doesn’t need to say.

Silence takes over. She gently cleans the wounds and uses the other end the wipe away any remaining blood on his face. He is motionless. His eyes never leave her face, staring. Chloe does her best to her eyes on the wounds. An untamed curl falls on his forehead and she runs her hand to put it back in place. Her touch lingers when their gazes meet. She wishes she could lean in and kiss him.

“You smell like Hell,” he quips, his lips curling upwards into a hesitant smile. “Quite literally.”

She’s thankful for the elusion. Chloe drops her hand, chuckling. “Oh, thanks.” Her eyes roll in amusement as she carefully pushes herself to the other end of the couch.

“That is what you get for befriending a demon,” he responds.

_Here we go._

“She knew me, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she did.” A nod accompanies her words.

“She said I’d left her behind.”

“You did.” Her heart is pounding and her mind is swirling with lies. She’s never been this grateful for her acting skills before.

“I was supposed to take a demon with me when I left to..” He pauses, quoting her words from yesterday. “..protect you from evil?”

“She got… stuck here. And she asked you to take her home. When you left… she was angry.” He thinks over her words. His eyebrows furrow and his eyes are on the wall behind her.

“Why would I let a demon walk the earth?”

Finally, she settles on the simplest lie there is: “I don’t know.”

His expression harden and Samael straightens his back. “You might’ve been advised to keep secrets, but I do not appreciate lies.”

“It isn’t a lie,” she tries again but her voice betrays her, croaking.

Suddenly the burden of this knowledge is too much to bear. The knowledge that if she just tells Samael what he did, he might have a second chance. That if he knows what happens in the future, then he might not rebel. Then maybe Lucifer, her Lucifer, maybe wouldn’t have to go through Hell. He wouldn’t spend eons in a _fiery pit of despair_ hating himself. Forced to do a job he never asked for.

Her eyes well up with tears and she hates herself for it. Samael presses his lips into a thin line and gets up.

“It wasn’t my intention to make the Decker women cry when I accepted your dinner offer.”

She wipes her face, sniffling. “No. It isn’t your fault. It isn’t.. anyone’s fault.” She finishes weakly.

“You just can’t tell me,” he says, nodding.

“Yeah.” Her answer is almost inaudible. She looks down, shutting her eyes to stop the tears falling.

“I.. am going to call it a day.” His frustration is justified but she notes how he sounds more.. disappointed instead. "Thank you for everything, Detective."

She silently follows him to the door, shutting it behind him.

Chloe spends the rest of the night pretending to be interested in the movie Trixie picked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always - I'd appreciate your feedbacks! :)


	6. Chapter 6

His superiority complex teaches him two things: there are many tall buildings in L.A. and flying around for almost an hour trying to identify which one has his penthouse is a terrible idea. By the time he lands on the balcony, he sent at least a dozen people into an existential crisis, almost flew into a window and spent all of his energy.

But at least, he now has a pretty accurate idea on the distance between his penthouse and the Decker household. Samael sighs to himself, dropping his jacket on the couch as he walks to the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water.

Without the Detective, or even Amenadiel, the place is soulless. He feels like a prisoner, except it isn’t the place holding him hostage. It is the lack of knowledge. He feels _trapped._ His future is a dark place. He’s known ever since he saw the look on Amenadiel’s face when he figured out what was going on. Samael closes his eyes and the glass in his hand shatters with the force he didn’t realize he was applying.

The absence of pain in his hand reminds him of today’s events and he touches the wound under his eyebrow, only to find it gone.

_As it should’ve been shortly after the fight._

His slowed-down healing ability is the least of all his worries, though. The demon’s words reverberate in his mind. _You left me. You said you never would._

He can’t think of a world in which he would ever befriend a demon.

He can’t think of a world in which he would ever let a demon walk the earth.

And he can’t think of a world in which he is so… fascinated by a human.

He finds them interesting. He does. _They have free will,_ his Father said.

He’s envied them ever since.

He snuck into the garden once. After he heard what Lilith has done. _Disobeyed._ The flicker of hope inside him died as fast as it blossomed.

Humans were inconsequential. Lilith’s contumacy didn’t change anything, and she was easily replaced.

_By Eve._ His visits to the Garden were always short as it was forbidden (well, his Father had _implied_ and his siblings jumped the gun. Samael, on the other hand, considered the lack of a direct order a loophole). Whenever he had the chance, he’d sneak in. Eve shortly became his favorite part of those little trips, despite his general disdain towards humanity.

The glass shatters into more pieces under his weight and the noise brings him back from his trip down the memory lane. Two very long days have passed ever since his arrival. Samael dusts off the glass clinging to his suit and leaves the mess he’s made behind to get a good night’s sleep he desperately needs.

When he finds the detective’s photo he left on the nightstand yesterday, he tucks it into a drawer where it won’t be seen. He sinks into the silk sheets, falling asleep in no time.

This time, he wakes to one of his least favorite noises: Amenadiel’s voice.

“Brother,” he says, groaning as he hides his face into a pillow, away from the sunlight.

“It’s almost noon, Sammy. Get up.”

“I don’t have anything to be late for,” he whines.

“I do. Come on, brother.”

Samael reluctantly follows Amenadiel to the kitchen.

“Chloe told me to go grocery shopping,” Amenadiel explains as he glances at the bags on the middle counter, beginning to place the products inside the fridge.

Samael hums, waiting. For an explanation. For a reprimand. For a lecture. Chloe _must_ have told him about what went down.

Nothing comes.

He feels foolish for believing he’d start getting answers now.

“Oh,” Amenadiel’s voice distracts him from his thoughts, “I got you a phone.”

His eyebrows raise. Samael spots the small device resting on the counter next to a box. Wary, he picks it up and stares at the black screen. “I don’t know how to use one.”

“I’ll teach you.” The older angel closes the fridge, pressing a button on the side of the phone. The screen lights up, telling them what time it is. “I’ve put mine and Chloe’s numbers inside, in case you need anything.”

Samael manages to nod every few minutes to pretend he is listening to how to turn off and on the phone, how to call someone, how to charge it… the only thing he finds practical are those things called emojis. Instead of words to express their emotions, humans have invented small yellow faces for different situations and expressions. It seems promising.

After a brief introduction to the other bigger black screen in the living room, Amenadiel takes his leave. A small grin forms on his lips as he finds the phone.

He finds the police emoji he’s been looking for and sends the detective a text. Five minutes pass and when he doesn’t receive any answer, he sends a string of emojis that, in his mind, stands for “what are you doing?”

He frowns at the display name ‘Chloe’, trying different options until he finds out how to change it. Once the screen displays the number as _TheDetective,_ he smiles to himself, proud.

He chuckles to himself, excited like a child given candy. His enthusiasm decreases when she doesn’t reply for another five minutes.

Samael frowns, adding a few more police emojis and an exclamation point before hitting send. This time, the phone buzzes to let him know he has a new message.

_TheDetective : Lucifer?_

_Samael: Samael_

He sighs to himself, the excitement slowly draining out of him.

_TheDetective: Sorry. I was distracted._

_TheDetective: Amenadiel got you a phone?_

He replies with a thumbs up, two angels, and a phone between the two.

_TheDetective: Can you please use your words?_

Not using emojis takes too much time. He’s frustrated, searching for a different letter each time.

_Samael: Yes and taught me how to use it_

_TheDetective: That’s great._

The lack of effort in the text makes him second-guess himself. Samael presses his lips together tightly, setting the phone down. The phone vibrates another ten minutes later. He clings to it in seconds.

_TheDetective: I am at work but I’ll stop by later today. Is that okay?_

_Samael: Of course. _

He doesn’t forget to add a smiley face at the end.

The Detective texts him… a lunch and three movies later. He’s watching _Yes man_ when he hears the notification.

_TheDetective: I’ll pick you up in an hour?_

He didn’t think this would be an ourdoors event, but he replies with another thumbs up emoji.

When he gets inside the car, the first thing that greets him is the smell of food. He can’t quite put his finger on what it is, but it smells delicious. “Hello, Detective,” he says.

Chloe’s smile is shy but vibrant. “Hey. How was your day?”

“Uneventful,” he replies, raising an eyebrow, eager to get some answers himself. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Her tone is soft. His heaert starts beating a little faster. Samael gives into the mystery, avoiding asking their destination as they converse through the ride.

Almost an hour later, in the middle of nowhere, Chloe pulls up. It is getting dark and cold. He meets her gaze, confused. She nods, telling him to get outside with the gesture. He follows her, leaning against the car next to her, silent.

“Look up,” she says, smiling.

Only then he notices. “Oh,” Samael says, mesmerized by the view.

The stars. _His s_ tars.

“You can’t see them in the city. Too much light,” she says, touching his arm.

“I’ve never seen them from.. here. Hanging in the sky.” He _walked_ among them, when he _created_ each one. He is proud. Something in his chest tightens.

“They are beautiful.” He is overwhelmed but her praise is still… much appreciated. His eyes water but no tears fall.

“Yes,” he whispers, a secret, tight smile on his lips. “They are.”

He feels powerful in a way he hasn’t before. He _is_ power itself, but the desire to _be free_ has never burned brighter. His faith in himself is restored. He watches the sky, and daydreams.

_Pride will be your downfall,_ something in the back of his mind reminds him. Samael doesn’t care.

“Samael?” Chloe speaks and the fierce, determined expression on his face softens. “I brought burgers. They’re still a bit warm. If you’re hungry..”

He isn’t. He is filled with passion and desire in that moment, but he nods. “Yes. Please. Even though I have no idea what that is..” His playful tone earns him a grin from her.

They settle down the food on the hood of the car and start eating. He asks about her child, and she asks about the Silver City.

He tells her about the pranks he played on Michael. He tells her about Azrael. He tells her about the beach he adores so much, almost identical to the Earth’s, but much calmer and more peaceful. Finally, he tells her about how his Parents’ fights and this time she’s the one with tears in her eyes. She doesn’t cry but she can’t speak as if it will break her.

“I’m sorry,” she eventually says, “that your siblings refuse to do anything about your Parents’ relationship. And that you feel alone.”

“I didn’t say I felt alone.” His denial is almost child-like. He sounds small, casting his gaze upon his stars once more.

“You didn’t have to.” Whether she’s insightful or it is her relationship with his future self, he doesn’t know.

“How can they _not_ care?” He says after a while, talking more to himself than to her. “How can they accept that the _only_ time Father cares is when He wants something done? He won’t even speak to us, did you know that? He speaks to _Gabriel_ only. Then our dear brother gives us our tasks.”

Chloe’s eyes are filled with something he hasn’t seen anyone feel for him before: sympathy. The intensity of it makes him feel naked. “My apologies,” he adds, “I didn’t mean to burden you with.. all of this.”

“You didn’t.” Her reply comes so fast that he almost believes it. “And you are right to feel the way you do. I do think your Father needs parenting classes.”

He chuckles, the bubble of melancholy burst. “You seem to know more about parenting than they do. Once you’re up there, you can always give them a piece of your mind.”

She pauses and gets that look on her face whenever he says something _inaccurate._ He refuses to think back on his words and try to figure out what might be wrong.

“How do you know I’ll go to Heaven?” He briefly wonders if he misjudged her and _that_ is what’s inaccurate but something inside him is certain her soul is untainted. Her actions so far only proved him right.

“I just do.”

They fall into a comfortable silence. He picks up the leftovers and Chloe places the rest of the trash in a bag. When they get in the car, he turns to her.

“Why did you bring me here?” His question isn’t ungrateful. Far from it.

“To remind you,” she says, and continues when he raises an eyebrow in curiosity, “That you are more important than you believe yourself to be.”

And he feels all the walls he’s been building up crumbling to nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed AND unedited because I kept getting distracted and finally just decided to post it. So, apologies for any mistakes!
> 
> As always - I'd greatly appreciate your comments!


	7. Chapter 7

The worst thing about Lucifer’s departure, the constant reminder of it, has been _work._ Despite his shenanigans and the amount of paperwork he caused her, he made everything enjoyable.

And Samael’s arrival only caused her to lose her focus even more.

The dynamics of their relationship is vastly different than what she had with Lucifer. She and Samael are not partners, but that hasn’t stopped her from finding excuses to spend time with him. He’s been here longer than a week, and they visited each other _every day_ since the stargazing. Knowing what, or rather who, is waiting for her after work makes her impatient. She checks the time too many times. If she’s lucky, she will have Lu- _Samael_ for a month or so, and she hates that she can’t spend all of it with him.

Chloe sighs, returning her attention to the piece of paper in front of her.

Samael is a quick-learner. With the help of his new friends and movies Amenadiel’s introduced him to, Chloe notices, he’s adjusted to this era pretty well. One rule he insists on breaking, however, is knocking the door. He might give her a heart attack one day, but she can’t bring herself to scold him.

He lands in the middle of the living room, his gorgeous wings at display. She gawks at them as if it’s the first time and earns a bashful smile from Samael. One she’s never seen on Lucifer’s face. Her appreciative gazes would leave Lucifer speechless and confused and he would put his walls up in a matter of seconds.

Samael, on the other hand, revels in any kind of affection, in a way that makes her heartache. His eyes soften, the corners of his eyes crinkle and his lips curl up in coyness. He is unfamiliar with so many good emotions, but isn’t afraid.

Because he hasn’t been betrayed, yet. He hasn’t spent eons in Hell.

“Hey,” Chloe says before tears well up in her eyes. She can’t cry, not now.

“Hello, Detective,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders to tuck his wings back into… wherever it is that they go. “Is the human child not around?”

She snorts but her reply isn’t needed when the door rings. Trixie rushes in the moment she spots Samael and attaches herself to his long legs, leaving a confused Dan behind with her “Lucifer!” shriek.

Samael, to his credit, doesn’t correct Trixie. His awkward state is so in character that Chloe doesn’t worry about the two.

“ _Lucifer?”_ Dan questions, frowning. “Lucifer is back?”

When Dan takes a step inside, Chloe instinctively closes the door a bit to stop him. His confusion makes her rush her explanation.

“Yes. No. Yes, he is. Dan-”

“You can’t keep letting that asshole do this to you, Chlo. This isn’t-”

“Dan.” She thinks it is her exasperated tone that shuts him up, but following his gaze, Chloe sees Samael towering behind her.

“Detective,” he says, but his eyes remain fixed on Dan, possessive. “Is everything alright?”

“ _Yes.”_ She emphasizes the word fiercely, turning to her ex-husband, willing him to leave.

Dan’s snort is deprecating. “I don’t know what she sees in you, man,” he tells Samael, unaware of all that is going on. “You don’t deserve this many chances.”

If he is confused, Samael doesn’t let it show. “Your child is whining about how hungry she is.”

Dan scoffs, displeased that he was ignored. Chloe closes the door behind him the moment he turns around to leave.

“You married that… small ball of rage?” His short pause tells her he has worse adjectives in mind but he plans to weigh her reaction first. Samael takes a seat by the kitchen bar as she starts going through the fridge to prepare dinner. “You have questionable taste in men, Detective.”

“He isn’t bad,” she defends Dan, weak and reluctant to as she may be. “He’s gone through a lot recently.”

Samael hums, watching her with narrowed eyes. “Is he right?”

“About what?” From the corner of her eyes, she searches for Trixie and hopes for a rescue but her little girl has chosen this moment to retreat to her room.

“He implied I hurt you.”

“ _You_ didn’t.”

“Technicalities,” he replies, his tone determined.

Chloe sighs, shaking her head. “Y.. he didn’t. Not on purpose.”

“For what it’s worth,” he starts, holding her gaze, “I apologize.”

“It’s not worth anything,” she snaps. Chloe blinks in hopes to clear her vision. “I don’t want apologies. You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. Dan doesn’t know anything.”

Lucifer broke her heart so many times that she lost count. The fact that she now knows Lucifer is _the_ Devil explains so much. His abandonment issues, his inability to process emotions, the way he perceives things. Even though it doesn’t undo all the heartbreak, apologies are the last thing she needs.

What she needs is _him._ Not the angel standing in front of her.

She sniffles, wiping away the single tear falling down her cheek. “You’re not him.” She tells him, fierce. It is childish and she breaks both their hearts in the process.

“I know.” He lowers his gaze and presses his lips into a thin line. “I like it here.”

His hesitant confession breaks her heart all the more. Her tone is apologetic when she answers. “I like you here, too.”

Trixie, thankfully, chooses the right moment to join them. Chloe smiles at her daughter telling Samael about her day in excitement as she prepares their dinner.

She smiles at the image of Samael tiptoeing out of Trixie’s room. Her little monkey managed to get him to read a story, and by the looks of it, he doesn’t want to wake Trixie up accidentally and read the same story all over again.

Chloe hides her grin behind the cup of coffee, making a face when she realizes it’s already cold. Samael seats himself next to her at the table, his head tilted to see whatever’s on the computer screen. “Working on a case?”

“Yeah,” she replies with a nod. “They just called. Apparently they were able to narrow it down to four different locations where the killer might strike next. They’re planning stakeouts, so all hands on deck.”

“A stakeout?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yes. Tomorrow night.”

“Like in the movies?”

“It isn’t as exciting as Hollywood makes it to be.”

His enthusiasm doesn’t waver. “I could accompany you.”

“I..” She _wants_ to say yes. “I am not sure that is a good idea.” Her politically correct answer falls weak and unconvincing and he picks up on it.

“Come now, Detective. It would be fun.”

She eyes him, mouth hanging open to list at least a dozen reasons why it wouldn’t be _fun_ but she can’t.. lie. “Fine.”

“Perfect.” He clasps his hands together in triumph. “I will see you tomorrow, then.” She suspects he is only eager to leave so that she won’t change her mind or try to talk him out of it.

It takes him five minutes of silence to get bored. With his long limbs in her small car, he can’t comfortably move. He plays with his handcuffs and taps his on the floor repeatedly. She is trying to hide her amused smile when he looks at her. “What’s so funny?”

“I told you you’d be bored.”

“I am…” He starts, ready to defend himself but ends up sighing in defeat. “…bored.”

“You don’t have to stay.”

“Well, I can’t leave you alone now, can I?” At her _I can handle myself_ look, he gives a sheepish grin. “And I’d rather spend my time with you.”

She pauses. His sincerity always catches her off guard. Chloe smiles at him in response, touching his arm reassuringly. She’s glad he chose to stay.

“How long.. how long do you think it will take Michael to find you?”

“Amenadiel said he would disappear for months,” he says, eyes narrowed as if he is calculating. “Time moves slower in Heaven. Though I am not sure how it would convert, I’d suspect it’d take him a month or two.”

She hums, biting the inside of her lower lip to stop it from trembling. He will leave. Again. This time it is inevitable and she knows it is coming. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Just.. don’t go without saying goodbye?”

He smiles a knowing, sad smile. “You have my word, Detective.”

A figure appears outside the building they are waiting. At first, she is convinced it is one of the residents, but the man stops and checks his surroundings.

“Get down,” she whisper-shouts to Samael, who follows her lead quickly – albeit awkwardly. He’s _huge_ and Chloe can only hope he doesn’t look like an ostrich burying his head into the sand. When she tilts her head up slightly to see, the man is gone.

“Wait here,” she says, already opening the car door.

“Detective-”

His protest is cut short when she puts a finger on her lips. Chloe places a hand on her gun as she takes tentative steps towards the building. The place is eerily calm and she makes it halfway before she hears Samael’s shout.

“ _Detective!”_

A gunshot follows it and she freezes. She’s afraid to look down and see the blood sticking to her t-shirt.

There’s no pain.

When she touches her abdomen, she finds everything conveniently dry.

Samael’s pained grunt tells her why. Chloe turns around and spots two huge wings. Samael’s back is to her, but she can see the blood pooling slowly on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's taken me ages to update, but I promise I won't abandon this story! I can't wait to share more of it with you and see your reactions.


	8. Chapter 8

The sight of his huge white wings sends the killer on his knees, begging and praying for forgiveness. The satisfaction it brings is cut short when Samael steps forward and the sharp pain in his leg forces him to look down. When he touches his thigh, the blood his black suit hides is sticky on his fingers.

“I’m bleeding,” he says, confused and panicked. When he looks over his shoulder, he spots Chloe, frozen.

She breaks out of their trance first, calling for an ambulance. Samael remains on his spot as the detective cuffs the crying man on the floor and shoves him into the back of the car. Eventually, his leg gives out and he falls on his knees.

“I should not be bleeding,” he tells her, through gritted teeth as Chloe presses a piece of cloth on the wound. “Call Amenadiel.”

“But the amb-”

“Amenadiel, Detective,” he cuts her off, shutting his eyes, a grimace over his features. He vaguely remembers when his brother picks him up.

He wakes to the sound of an angry woman.

“How many times do I have to tell you I am _not_ that kind of doctor?” She says. Samael blinks a few times to clear his vision, and is disappointed when he notices the blonde in the bedroom is not the detective.

Amenadiel’s apologetic expression changes into one of relief when he sees Samael stirring.

“And what kind of doctor are you?” Samael interrupts the two, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

“Lucifer,” the petite blonde says with a smile. It quickly turns regretful when she corrects herself. “Samael. I’m glad you’re okay.”

His questioning silence is enough to make her explain more. “I.. Amenadiel called me to get the bullet out. So that he could..”

She nods towards Amenadiel for rescue. “You were bleeding too much and Linda said it was a serious vascular injury, so I had to have her get the bullet out and heal you myself.”

_Heal you myself._

The words carry a sheepish tone that Amenadiel _he_ knows wouldn’t have. Samael sighs, peeling the already ripped fabric of his pants to reveal where the wound was supposed to be. The only evidence that he was hurt is the dried blood on his skin, nothing else.

“You used a feather,” he says it out for confirmation. Amenadiel nods and he can’t bring himself to say _Thank you, brother._

Using one’s feathers, their divinity, for healing isn’t uncommon.. amongst his _siblings._ It’s an act of trust, to give one a feather, as it’s one thing that could be turned into a personalized weapon at the wrong hands.. which is why Samael _never_ partakes in it.

That, and his powers overshadow the rest so much that there’s very little they wouldn’t do for a single feather of his. Giving them away would poison any relationship he might have, as he could never be sure who is trying to take advantage.

He doesn’t share, and in return, he is considerate enough to not ask for one.

He _deals,_ and he likes to be the one to having an _IOU._

Now, he owes Amenadiel one and he despises it.

“I told the detective to get you because I thought it feckless to hand humans the evidence of divinity on a, well, stretcher.”

“You don’t owe me, Sammy,” his brother tries, easily figuring out the reason for his displeased reaction.

Samael’s mocking snort is proof of his mistrust. He briefly considers asking if Amenadiel knows why human weapons can hurt him, but decides against it. He’s never gotten straight answers before. There’s no point in trying now.

“Thank _you,_ Linda.” Samael finally addresses the woman, and she stops _studying_ their interaction. That is the only word he has for her curious gaze.

“You’re welcome. I cleaned up the mess we made in the bathroom after we carried you here.”

Thinking one _thanks, human_ is enough, Samael only nods at her words. He refuses to look at Amenadiel as he pushes himself off the bed and onto his feet.

“Samael,” Amenadiel sighs.

“You can go, now,” Samael replies, unbuttoning his ruined shirt.

He watches with the corner of his eyes as Linda shepherds Amenadiel out of the room. She stops once he’s gone and turns around to face Samael.

“I’m a therapist,” she says.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up, more concerned with his ruined suit than anything else.

“You asked what kind of doctor I am. I’m a therapist. If you want to talk.. Amenadiel knows where to find me.” She offers a kind smile before turning around to leave.

He doesn’t answer.

A long shower, new clothes, and food do the trick. Being pretty much _recharged_ by divinity, too, but he chooses to ignore that part. Samael sits on the couch, continuing his _Bones_ marathone with a box of pizza laid next to him. The only thing that can make this moment better arrives with a soft ding coming from the elevator. He perks up, his eyes finding the _right_ blonde this time.

“Detective,” he replies with a smile, but it vanishes when he spots the worry all over her face. “What’s wrong?”

Before he can fully stand up, Chloe crashes into him. He stumbles, managing to balance them. Her arms are wrapped around his waist tightly and she buries her face into his chest. “ _What’s wrong?”_ She repeats, but her relief eclipses anger. “You were shot! And Amenadiel wouldn’t answer his damn phone.”

Chloe sniffles, ungracefully wiping her tears with her sleeve. “I thought something happened to you. I came as soon as the units arrived, but..”

“I’m alright,” he cuts her off softly, giving her a small squeeze to emphasize his point. “Amenadiel helped. It’s healed.”

“I’m sorry,” she says as he takes one of her hands in his, and the other wrapped around her back, leading her to the couch. She sits close to him, shaking her head to herself. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” His words are a half chuckle, trying to hide the adoration in his tone. She _cares._ Something in the back of his mind reminds him, cruelly, that it’s not _him_ that she cares about, but rather the future version she knows, but the warmth in his chest refuses to burn out.

He’s a selfish man, and he will take what he can get.

“Yes, it is.” She removes her hand from his and he immediately mourns the loss. “It is. I’m so, so sorry, Samael.”

“ _I_ wanted to tag along, Detective. And _I_ chose to step in front of the gun. There’s no reason you should be blaming yourself.”

She shakes her head once more but at least there are no more tears. “Pizza?” He asks before she can say anything else, a hesitant smile on his lips. When she nods, Samael places the box on his lap for both of them.

“What were you watching?”

“Bones,” he replies, handing her the remote control as if to say she can decide what to watch. She leaves the show on and picks up a slice of pizza.

Samael, not so subtly, rests his arm on the back of the couch for obvious reasons. There’s no trace of irritation, mockery, _I-see-you_ type of expressions on her face as she automatically leans and curls into his side. The stress of the day drains out of her slowly, and she falls asleep, her head resting on his shoulder.

He finds that, as uncomfortable as the position is starting to get, he does not want to move. Only when she shivers and clings onto him even more for warmth does he get up. Samael hooks one arm around her back, and the other under her legs as he lifts her.

Chloe stirs in her sleep, hugging his pillow the moment he places her on the bed. “Stay,” she whispers, one hand reaching out to him.

He isn’t sure if she’s talking to him, but the idea is very _tempting_ so he waits a little longer. Her eyelids flutter. “Please.” The word sounds so f _ragile_. So small. So tired, so worried. He doesn’t fully get why, but he can’t deny her this – not something he desperately wants, too.

Not caring that he’s still wearing his suit, Samael takes off his jacket and carefully joins her in the bed. He smiles, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek but he freezes when she speaks again. “Lucifer. Don’t go.”

He realizes it a bit too late that she’s dreaming – or having a nightmare about his other.. self. Samael withdraws his hand, feeling foolish.

It’s _him,_ either way. What’s the difference?

But he can’t lie to himself.

Something deep within him is _jealous_ and the absurdity of the situation leaves him unable to do anything about it.

He sits up, pressing a kiss on Chloe’s temple. The stressed lines on her face soften and she murmurs, “Lucifer,” again, this time her tone hopeful.

Samael leaves with a sigh, and spends most of the night out at the balcony, thinking.

_Wanting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mhmhmhm... let me know what you think?


	9. Chapter 9

She wakes with a gasp, tears rolling down her face. “Lucifer,” she whispers to herself, and only then notices the person sitting on the edge of the bed and watching her with worry in his eyes.

Her brain circuits for a split second but the hope that blossoms in her chest dies fast. It’s Samael, she reminds herself. Her expression must’ve given it away because he frowns and avoids her gaze.

“I figured you were having a nightmare so I was trying to wake you up,” he explains but before he can get up, Chloe places a hand on his arm and keeps him there.

“Thank you,” she says, no other words coming out of her mouth. She wipes away the tears with the back of her hand, glancing out the window. It’s _too_ early in the morning.

“Did I die?”

A confused “What?” escapes her at his sudden question.

“You said I had to leave to protect you,” he says, “So, did I die protecting you? Well, that would only mean I’m waiting for you up there..” He glances upwards to make his point. _Heaven._ Chloe’s heart clenches. “..but I suppose I wouldn’t be able to visit you here.”

With the limited amount of information he has, his line of questioning makes sense. With the amount of information _she_ has… she feels terrible. He doesn’t know, and she can’t tell him.

“You didn’t die.” But it’s close, her inner voice says. Can you truly _live_ in Hell?

“Ah.” He’s less happy than she thought he would be. It’s not the _worst_ theory that’s been proven wrong. “You just.. you seem convinced you won’t ever see him again.”

“You left before I could even ask,” she says with a sad smile. “but I think it was implied.”

Silence takes over until Samael decides it’s time to leave and gets up. “It’s still early. You should sleep while you can.”

She doesn’t think she can, right now. “Stay?”

She notes the guarded expression on his face. His lips twitch as if he’s arguing with himself, not sure what to say. “Please,” Chloe adds.

That’s enough to make him move. Samael sits on the bed and she shifts, giving him enough place to lie down. They are both on their sides, facing each other. He truly looks like an angel, Chloe realizes.

“Why don’t _you_ tell me more?” She suggests, tilting her head in a way she thinks is cute.

“About what?”

“Heaven.” The word doesn’t have the same effect it does on Lucifer. There is no bitter quip about how dull the place is, there is no angry remarks, no grimace. Instead, a smile forms on his lips. “Your.. life there.”

“The Silver City.. well, it is everything you want it to be. Peaceful..” She thinks he is going to continue, but he pauses and says, “or it used to be.”

“What changed?”

“Didn’t he already tell you?”

She bites the inside of her cheek. She knows bits and pieces, of course. The type of information Lucifer used to slide into a conversation that she always dismissed but now knows is all true.

“I don’t know everything,” she finally replies, going for a safe answer.

“Mum and Dad grew apart,” he continues his story with a sigh. “Dad has been spending too much time tinkering with his new project, and Mum.. she is jealous, I suppose.”

“I know the feeling,” she says, scrunching up her nose. It’s the story of her divorce.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she replies sheepishly, “That’s why Dan and I divorced.. He used to spend too much time working. There was barely time for Trixie. For me. He just.. grew distant.”

“Why?” With the way he’s looking at her, his confusion is almost flattering.

“I don’t know. But now he makes time for Trixie, so I guess I was the problem.” Too demanding, too stubborn, too boring. Her insecurities threaten to rise inside her, but Samael snorts softly and she forgets all about it.

“I doubt you were the problem.”

She smiles at that, leaning on her back as she stares at the ceiling. After a moment of silence, he adds. “I don’t want.. Mum and Dad to _divorce,_ ” he says in a tone that reminds her so much of Trixie. “Frankly, I am not even sure a divorce is an option.”

She turns her head towards him, only raising an eyebrow in question.

“The universe is too small for a God and a Goddess that are cross with each other,” he answers.

She supposes that makes sense. They are.. terrible at forgiveness, as a family.

“Mum won’t leave her room,” he continues, “When she does, it is to yell at Him and He won’t even answer anymore. He doesn’t talk to any of us – except Gabriel. He tells Gabriel what He wants us to do, and we are to follow it without question.”

“And you.. don’t like being told what to do,” she finishes it for him. “Not unless you’re given a good reason why.”

He studies her face as if she’s a puzzle. His eyebrows furrow closer and he tilts his head. “Yes,” is all he says.

“And are you..” She takes a deep breath, trying to approach the subject carefully. “..are you doing something about it?”

He snorts. “I was trying to convince Gabriel to let me see Father before Michael kicked my arse into the future.”

“You think… you can change God’s mind?”

He falls silent. Samael rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful frown on his face. “All I know is that I do _not_ like being used as a pawn.”

She doesn’t respond. It is a delicate subject – and she doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and cause a paradox that will end up being the reason he rebels.

“I sneak into the Garden now and then,” he says, obviously not ready to drop the subject. It makes sense, she supposes. He probably doesn’t have many people he can complain about God to. “Adam is a bore, but Eve is… lovely. She’s _free._ She makes me feel free, too.”

_Eve._ The first thing she feels, selfishly, is jealousy. She feels the need to hide the fact that Eve is around – not because of _time travel_ problems (as he already met Trixie, Dan, and Linda) – but because she doesn’t want to lose him to her for the second time. She feels bad about even considering it, but with everything going on.. she doesn’t want to share him with anyone.

It is still better to check with Amenadiel before she mentions Eve, Chloe decides. And she desperately tries to convince herself she’s doing it because she’s a rational woman ensuring the universe’s safety, not a jealous person stalling and hoping for a _no._

“You _are_ free,” she says, and only gets an indignant snort in response.

She closes her eyes, sighing. They lie in silence until her alarm goes off.

She delays talking to Amenadiel as much as she can. She finishes _all_ her paperwork, assists on an open-and-shut case, helps Dan and listens to Ella talk about Game of Thrones. Eventually, when there is nothing left to do and a few more hours until her shift ends, she texts him.

She doesn’t see the exact moment he _appears_ out of thin air, but he is right outside the interrogation room across her desk in the matter of a few minutes.

Chloe follows him inside, adjusting her jacket nervously.

“Do you think it’s okay if.. he knows Eve is around?” She blurts out before she can change her mind.

Amenadiel’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why are you asking me this?”

“We were talking and.. and he mentioned Eve. I don’t know what their relationship was like before, and from what I’ve seen… she _was_ a bad influence on Lucifer, but..”

“He sounded fond of her, and you’d feel guilty if you didn’t let him know she’s here?” Amenadiel finishes her sentence for her, giving her a kind, knowing smile. “I am not sure that is a good idea, Chloe.”

“Why? Because I was thinking about the.. time travel complications, and.. Samael already knows me. If that didn’t cause a problem, Eve shouldn’t, either, right?”

He tilts his head, eyes narrowed. “How do you know it didn’t cause a problem?”

“Lucifer didn’t recognize me when we first met. I mean, he did. But from Hot Tub High School. He never mentioned meeting Trixie or Dan, either. So… it’s fine?” It is _not_ fine. Nothing about Samael’s arrival makes sense and every theory she’s read only confused her more.

So when Amenadiel replies with, “I am as clueless as you are, Chloe,” she’s disappointed all over again. “What you’re saying makes sense and it might not do much harm to the timeline for Samael and Eve to meet again, but that is not what worries me. Their relationship has never been… healthy. You witnessed it yourself.”

She did. She knows Amenadiel is right but it feels _wrong_ to keep it from him. “He needs someone who knows him,” she decides with resigned finality. “You have Charlie to worry about and I.. I keep making a mess of things. Eve knows him.”

Amenadiel smiles _that_ smile again. The one that says _you’re truly good, Chloe,_ and she can only give a tired smile in return. He squeezes her shoulder once before exiting the room.

Eve hasn’t responded to anyone’s calls or texts in months, but one message that says _It’s about Lucifer_ earns Chloe a call in ten minutes. She knows Eve feels guilty about what happened as much as she does.

“Is he back?” is, of course, her first question the moment Chloe answers her phone.

“Not.. really,” she says before she begins explaining.

“Oh, Sammy,” Eve sighs now and then, but not interrupting Chloe’s story otherwise. She remembers to remind the first woman at least _ten_ times that she’s not allowed to mention any major events in his future. His fall, his return to Hell, anything. Eve promises, more than once, and informs her she’ll be there as soon as possible.

Chloe doesn’t get an answer when she asks where she is, and she supposes Eve won’t stay longer than she is needed.

“He could never get along with his siblings, you know,” Eve says with a sigh after they put her bag in the trunk and Chloe sits back on the driver’s seat. “Only Azrael. The rest resented him for being.. him. That’s why he came to me whenever he can. I liked who he was before, and I liked him after he Fell, too.”

_That’s why I kept pushing him,_ Eve is saying. Chloe’s just not sure whether there’s an apology there or not.

“It didn’t occur to me you knew him as.. Samael. I just thought you’d met him after… he became Lucifer.”

“When he _tempted_ me, you mean,” Eve says with that Disney-princess smile of hers that is just as suggestive. “No. I’ve known him for years before that. We just.. got to spend more time together afterward.”

And Chloe does _not_ want to know what that entails. All of this feels like a bad case of deja vu.

The elevator doors open and reveal the penthouse and a handsome angel sitting on the couch, still watching Bones. She almost rolls her eyes at that, a small smile threatening to form on her lips. Chloe steps out of the elevator first and his smile is wide at the sight of her.

“Detective,” he says, standing up. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

His joyful tone is so obvious that she doesn’t worry about not being welcome. Relief washes over her, and she feels ashamed for how much she’s been worrying about Eve. “I brought someone for you,” she announces as Eve takes a few hesitant steps outside.

Samael’s mouth falls open, and he watches them, puzzled. “..Eve?”

“Hi, Sammy,” Eve says, biting down on her lower lip as if to contain her excitement. “Long time no see.”

Samael freezes when the woman throws herself at him and brings him in for a tight hug. Eventually, he returns the gesture and his hands rest on her back. “How is this possible?”

Eve shrugs, and as she starts babbling an answer, Chloe feels let out of their bubble. Her smile becomes tight and forced and she rubs her hands together awkwardly, waiting for an opportunity to be included.

She doesn’t think either of them does it on purpose, but she quickly finds herself wanting to leave. Her goodbye is short and she almost rushes to the elevator.

She did _not_ make a mistake, she tells herself for the fifth time as she walks to her car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I really, really like Eve and Inbar so she had to be introduced. 
> 
> But we all know Deckerstar is endgame, eh?

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants to chat, find me on twitter as @inbowelsofhell. :)


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